The Runaway
by carnation-princess
Summary: After an accident that leaves Kili in a coma, Fili runs away thinking he is not loved. Can his family find him before someone else does? Erebor never fell.
1. The Runaway

Disclaimer-I don't own any of this, I am just playing and will return everyone and everything when I'm done.

I am using the axebow website to calculate dwarven ages. So Fíli at the time of this story would be 10 years old in human years.

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><p>It was a dark, frigid, moonless night at the end of January, one of those nights where one just wanted to curl up next to the fire with a hot cup of tea. Certainly, it was no place for a 20-year-old dwarfling to be wandering around, especially not in the forest of Mirkwood.<p>

The dwarfling was covered in mud, caking around his long curly locks. He appeared to have blonde hair once, but now it was black, as black as the night. His sky blue eyes appeared dim and old. They did not look like they belonged on a dwarfling whose beard was just starting to make an appearance. His clothes, dirty and ripped in various places looked like they were regal once, but now were clothes for a pauper.

The dwarfling coughed, as more tears threatened to fall. He thought he had no more tears to cry but just the mere thought of being lost on an unfamiliar path in Mirkwood made more tears fall. He had wandering alone for three days now, surviving on whatever plants he could find on the paths and water from the almost constant rain that had finally subsided what felt like minutes ago. In reality it has stopped 5 hours ago, but Fíli, the dwarfling did not know that, so wet and miserable was he.

Just when Fíli thought he could not get any worse for the wear, he tripped over something and found himself meeting the muddy ground yet again. That was the third time since he ran away from home he found himself face in ground. He lay on the ground crying in darkness of night, letting tears carry him to the world of haunting dreams.

"_Hey Fíli!" A young voice shouted._

"_Kíli, don't come closer!" Fíli yelled back._

_Footsteps came closer to him, as all of the sudden the room got bigger and bigger. Fíli looked around, this was not his great-grandfather's throne room, was it? He didn't have time to think as Kíli entered the room that was growing by the second. _

_Next thing Fíli knew, the floor opened up beneath his brother and he disappeared. _

"_KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he screamed. _

Fíli shot up off the ground with a scream. 'Just a dream', he thought to himself. It was now morning, the dawning of his fourth day of running away. He knew he could never return to Erebor, fourth in line for the throne or not, not after what he did, not after what was said to him. Fíli stood up and continued his journey, stopping twice to pick some berries that he found and to take a sip of water that had collected in a leaf. He smiled for the first time in five days when he finally saw the edge of Mirkwood and what he considered freedom.

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><p>Meanwhile back in Erebor, there was a lot of commotion coming from the royal chambers. It had been five days since what is now being called 'the accident' which left Young Prince Kíli in a coma, and Prince Fíli missing. Servants, extended family members, and members of the court were running around everywhere, many it seemed had no destination in mind. One royal, Princess Dís, the mother of Fíli and Kíli had not left her youngest side since her brother Frérin brought Kíli to her in his state five days ago. She currently sat in a chair holding her youngest son's hand as the door silently opened to let in the elderly royal healer, Narvi to change the bandages that currently criss-crossed Kíli's body and head.<p>

"Milady," Narvi said, softly as not to disturb his patient, "has there been any news about Prince Fíli? Has anyone seen him?"

Dís could only shake her head no. Her father Thráin, her brothers Thórin and Frérin, her husband Víli, as well as a small contingent of royal guards were all out searching Erebor and the surrounding areas for any trace of her son. However, so far all of the ravens and messengers coming back have been negative. It had been four days, five since the accident, and four since she had last seen her golden haired son.

Narvi weakly smiled and grabbed Dís hand, off her son. "If you need anything, let me know." Narvi left the room as silently as he came in.

Dís returned her hand to her son. "Kíli, mama's here, please wake up," she said softly while trying to hold back tears. "Kíli, please."

The tears could no longer hold back, all she wanted was Kíli to wake up and Fíli to be safe in her arms once again. But, she was beginning to lose hope, the hope that she would ever see Kíli open his eyes and would be able to kiss Fíli goodnight. She leaned forward and could do nothing but cry into her son's bedside. She didn't even realize that her grandfather, King Thrór had walked in to cover her with a blanket. There was nothing to be said, nothing that could be said, nothing that could be done, but wait.


	2. The Search Party

Fíli could not believe the sight that awaited him just beyond the edge of the trees, a large empty plain, with what he believed to the Misty Mountains in front of him. In his muddled mind, he knew to be truly free; he would have to get to the other side of those mountains. However, this being his first time this far away from home, he would never survive crossing the mountains. He was flat out told that in all of his lessons by various tutored and well-meaning family members, well former family members. Fíli never wanted to see them again, and they would never accept him back, not after what he did, not after what happened. His eyes filled with tears just thinking about it again.

He had to make a decision, attempt to cross the mountains or find a way around the mountains. If he remembered correctly, one of his tutors, Vitr, taught him about the Gap of Rohan, a way through the mountains without climbing, and in order to get there from Erebor, cut through Mirkwood, and turn left. It was the only way; Fíli made the final step out of Mirkwood, and turned left, oblivious to the noisy footsteps that were sneaking up from behind him.

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><p>"Fíli! Fíli! Where are you?" A loud demanding voice cried in the middle of the bustling city of Dale.<p>

The people of Dale were stopping to stare at the well-dressed dwarf. They all knew who he was, Prince Thráin, heir to the throne of Erebor. It was extremely rare to see Prince Thráin in Dale, even rarer to see him in a near state of panic.

"Fíli!" He yelled again.

By that point, people were starting to crowd around the Prince. It was common knowledge that the name being called was Thráin's daughter's eldest son, his grandson, Fíli. But, no one knew why he would be looking for the young dwarfling in Dale of all palaces. Shouldn't he be safe in the Lonely Mountain?

Thráin looked around, hoping upon hoping that any second; the golden haired dwarfling would run about from behind a barrel or a house into his waiting arms. The more he wished, the more hope he lost that that wish wasn't coming true at that point. In addition, for some strange reason, a new feeling that was arising in him, a feeling that he felt for a brief second five days ago, at the dwarfling in question, but that feeling wasn't directed at Fíli at all. This feeling of anger was directed at the one whom Thráin felt was directly responsible for Fíli running.

"Father!" A younger voice broke him out of his reverie.

Thráin turned around to see three dwarves running towards him, two dark haired ones, his sons Thórin and Frérin, and his daughter's husband, the golden haired Víli. The crowd parted to let the three of them through. Thráin smiled at Frérin and Víli, but could only scowl at his eldest, his heir, Thórin, for it was him he was angry at. He was the reason they were all there in Dale at that moment, and he was the reason why Fíli, his own heir was missing at that moment.

"Any sign?" Thráin asked, directing his question towards his son-in-law.

Víli only shook his head no. No one in Dale had seen Fíli, not a single soul. His heart was breaking, his eldest son was gone, no one had seen him in five days, and his youngest was currently unconscious back home with his wife, her mother, and her grandparents. The rest of the family was with him. Although at that moment, he wished he could wish his oldest brother-in-law away. He hadn't been able to say more than two words to him in 5 days; at least today he could look at him for a few seconds before getting repulsed. Sure Thórin had tried to start a conversation, they used to be best friends, but Víli wasn't sure if they could ever go back to the way things were after all that happened. Víli was almost positive if anything happened to either of his boys, he would personally murder Thórin. He would never speak to him again. He would not, he could not.

"I don't think he's here, Father," Frérin said. "We met with Girion, who told us that no one had seen him. He didn't think he had ever come through here. He said he would tell the guard to keep an eye out, but I think we need to move out of Dale. He is not here."

Thráin nodded at Frerin. He began to run in the direction of Mirkwood, the other three following him. The crowd parted, before they disappeared out of Dale, Víli gave what looked like a small wave of the hand, and ten other dwarves appeared from behind the gates and followed the royal family. Could Fíli have gone into Mirkwood? Very possible, since Thrór and Thranduíl became allies and friends upon Thrór recolonizing Erebor. Thranduíl, his son Legolas, and Tauriel, captain and bodyguard of the king were frequent visitors to the Lonely Mountain. Was it possible that Fíli had gone to visit his first non-dwarven friends, Legolas and Tauriel? It was worth a visit, if not, he could get the Mirkwood elves involved in the search, Fíli was well loved among the elves of Mirkwood, they would help, or else. Thráin nodded and led the contingent into the forest of Mirkwood.

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><p>Fíli walked along the River Anduin towards what he hoped was the Gap of Rohan. A light breeze blew across his mud-caked hair, his stomach rumbled with hunger. He had not eaten a true meal since running away. All of the sudden he felt a large weight on his shoulders, as he met the ground again…<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Fíli found himself on the ground again, but this time there was a clawing weight on his back ripping his shirt, scratching the exposed skin. He could hear the heavy breathing of whatever it was that was on him. He could feel the determination that the creature had to making him his next meal. What a fitting end this would be for a one-time heir to the Throne of Erebor.

_You're no heir of mine!_

Fíli knew this was the end, and what a fitting end this would be, he knew that if anyone cared enough to come looking for him, there would be no body to find, no trace of him ever. All of the sudden the creature whimpered, and released him.

"Get away, you crazy mutt!" a voice yelled from above him.

A warm heavy hand was placed on the wounds on his back. Fíli whimpered in pain, now he was in for it, he did not want to turn around and face reality at his rescuer. But his rescuer had other ideas as he felt his body being turned around.

"Bofur, Bifur, we have a young one here!" his rescuer called.

Fíli opened up his eyes, and was greeted by what seemed like the widest dwarf he had ever seen! Not as tall as his cousin, Dáin, but wide and round with long orange tinted hair with a bushy orange moustache, and a thick orange braid that went down to his stomach. Orange was the only color he could use here, as that flaming red belonged to his cousin Glóin.

"Are you okay lad?" the dwarf asked as his was joined by two others, one with a strange hat, and another with an axe in his forehead? That didn't make any sense.

Fíli whimpered in pain. His rescuer frowned and placed his large hand on his forehead. Fíli turned away, he did not want to be touched, he did not deserve it, not after what he did.

_Your're no heir of mine! _

"What's your name lad?" His rescuer asked. He seemed like he was genuinely looking to help as well as his two companions, who had knelt down on either side of him.

Fíli saw no harm in telling these dwarves his name. They obviously did not recognize him, and he did not recognize them. They did not appear to be from Erebor or the Iron Hills. Total strangers, nomads perhaps.

"Fíli", he whimpered out in pain.

His rescuer smiled, "My name in Bombur, my brother kneeling besides you in the silly hat is Bofur, and our cousin with the axe in his head is Bifur."

Bofur gave his brother a look but was able to smile and say hello to Fíli. Bifur muttered something in Kuzdul, something that Fíli was not able to catch in his so far basic Kuzdul skills.

A bark sounded from behind Bofur scaring Fíli and causing him to jump into Bombur's arms, who held him tightly. Bombur squeezed Fíli tightly. "Are you afraid of little Johnny Boy there, Fíli?"

Fíli nodded into Bombur's chest. All of the sudden he felt a warm tongue licking him on the arm. He turned his head. In Bifur's arms was the smallest little puppy ever, but its claws were sharp! Putting two and two together, Fíli laughed. He was knocked over by a puppy smaller than Kíli! Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur all smiled at each other over Fíli's laughter, which suddenly turned to tears as Fíli remembered Kíli and why he was away from home to begin with.

_Your're no heir of mine! _

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><p>Dís awoke with a startle as something beneath her arm began to move. Kíli! Dís went to open up her mouth to say something, when suddenly the five-year-old dwarfling began to move around uncontrollably. It was his first movement in nearly six days now, ever since the accident. But, this was not normal. Dís tried to grab her son's arms but he pulled them away and ended up punching her in the cheek hard instead.<p>

Immediately, she yelled out a loud scream, and moved her hand to her cheek in pain which caused multiple footsteps to be heard in the hallway and finally opening the door to the young prince's room where they currently were. Narvi ran immediately ran to Kíli's side, who nodded to someone out of Dís's vision.

"Don't touch him," Narvi yelled at someone whose hand was about to grab Kíli.

She felt a strong arm on her shoulder coaxing her to stand up. She looked up, it was her cousin Dáin from the Iron Hills. She and he had always been close growing up, and she was glad to see him in that moment. She got up and followed Dáin out of her son's room, whom she knew was in the very best of hands at that moment with Narvi, Thrór, Náin (her uncle), & a couple of other healers.

Just as Dáin nearly had her out of the room, Kíli shrieked, causing her to turn an about face with Dáin quickly on her heels. She pushed her grandfather out of her way to get back to her son who would not stop moving.

"Kíli! Mama's here!" She cried, as strong arms began to pull her away as she grabbed Kíli's seizing hand.

"Get her out of here!" Narvi cried to Dáin, and he pushed Dís away into the stronger arms of her cousin.

"NOOOOOOO! Kíli. Dáin, nooooo!" Dís cried and Dáin succeeded in getting her out of the room.

Suddenly, Kíli stopped moving around with a sigh. Narvi quickly checked the dwarfling's breathing. Satisfied that he was he allowed the person who was about to touch him before, touch him. It was Thrór, who replaced Dís on the chair. He smoothed out his great-grandson's hair that had become a mess in the seizure.

"What did we just see?" Thrór asked Narvi.

Narvi shook his head. He did not know how to the answer that one.

"Something awful, Sire, something awful."

Náin sighed and went to follow his son and niece; he felt he could be of more use there.

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><p>Thráin led the search party down the paths of Mirkwood, toward the grand palace of their allies. He was hoping to run into a scouting party that Thranduil sends out. The quicker he found anyone, the quicker the search for his grandson could resume. He still could not talk to his eldest son. He had never been so mad at him. It was an accident, only a simple accident, things happen. However, accidents that knock a young dwarfling into unconsciousness were erare. Still that was no reason at all to practically disown another young dwarfling who loved you like a second father. Especially one, who was barely into his twenties, still a child.<p>

"Father," said a currently much-hated voice, stopping the party.

"Thórin, don't talk to me right now, I don't want to talk to you."

"Father," the voice tried again as he came up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I will not talk to you until my grandson is found, until then, I have nothing to say to you."

The hand dropped solemnly off his shoulder. Thráin was being stubborn and he knew it. In rough times, the House of Durin should be sticking together, not practically exiling one of their own, no matter how mad they are at him at the moment.

Thórin tried one more time. He was tired of practically being ignored ever since being told he was coming along to look for Fíli. "Father, if I could take it all back what I said and did I would, but we have to find Fíli first, and for that we need to work together."

That caused Víli and Frérin to stop their side conversation and look in the direction of the crown prince and heir. What was Thráin going to do? Thórin was right, but none of them were ever going to forgive him if something happened to Fíli.

Thráin did not have a chance to answer when all of the sudden the search party found themselves surrounded by the sound and sight of many bows and arrows being pointed in their direction…

"And that is how I became an orphan," Fíli said to his new friends as they sat around a fire with a dinner in a pot that Bombur was cooking.

"Wow, Fíli, that seems like you've survived a very long time by yourself," Bofur said.

Fíli smiled, they had bought his story that he just made up at the top of his head. If he told them that he was a runway prince, they most likely would deliver him back to the one person who he had loved more than his parents, and said person had practically thrown him away.

"Yea, I have been."

Bombur grabbed four bowls out of his pack and began to serve dinner. It was going to be Fíli's first real dinner in six days now was it? He had lost track of time, and to him it didn't matter anymore. Bombur handed him a bowl with a spoon. Fíli tried the stew, it was the best thing he had ever tasted! Even better than the royals chefs. He began to quickly eat the stew, so hungry was he.

"Careful there laddie, you don't want to make yourself sick," Bombur said as he sat down next to him.

Fíli could almost smile, Bombur at that moment sounded like his Uncle Frérin, it was silly. He refused to think about his other uncle, he only had one, though that other uncle would always say that him when his mother and father were too slow. Fíli was very confused. If he were to return home, would he even be welcome there anymore? He did not know.

What he did know was that he was enjoying the little show that Bifur and Bofur were putting on at that moment, with Bofur playing a recorder, and Bifur banging a pot as a drum. He was laughing at the show, but all of the sudden he felt himself doze off. The last thing he remembered was his eyes drooping and him laying his head onto Bombur's shoulder just as he used to do to his other uncle…


	4. Wargs in the Distance

"Thranduil, can you help us?" Thráin asked, placing his goblet of wine on the table.

Thranduil looked around at the odd little dwarven party currently seated at his dining table. It was not an uncommon sight to see dwarves from Erebor in Mirkwood, but it was very unusual to see this many of the royal family all at once in Mirkwood. He was a king surrounded by princes and lords, including his own son, Legolas. One of those princes, the second in line to the throne of Erebor looked sullen, depressed, and guilty without a doubt. Thranduil had never seen Thórin like that before, and he had known him when he was just a blink in his mother's eye, and to put it frankly he did not like it. It was wrong. This entire situation was wrong, including how this party had formed.

_Thranduil was out hunting with his son and a few of the royal guards, including Tauriel. It was rare that he as the king went out hunting but for some reason something told him to go. They had gotten no more than an hour outside of the palace when he heard a familiar voice saying something that he never wanted to hear. _

"…_but we have to find Fíli first, and for that we need to work together."_

_He gave the signal for the hunting party to draw but not shoot. The voice stopped talking and instead gasped, among what sounded like 20 other gasps. He stayed in the shadows until he was sure it was who he thought it was._

"_Thráin, Thórin, Frérin, Víli, what are you all doing here?" Legolas asked confirming his father's suspicions. _

_Before anyone could answer, Thranduil made his presence known. _

_All of the dwarves looked towards the crown prince of Erebor to make the first move as their leader. _

_Just then, Thráin did something that shocked everyone. He got down to his knees and bowed to the Woodland King. "My Lord Thranduil, I beg of you for your help. My grandson, Fíli is missing."_

_Thranduil made the motion for all 14 dwarves (he had greatly overestimated the number) and his cut-short hunting party to follow him back to the palace. He led them into the dining room and ordered the servants to bring in the wine and some food. These dwarves looked emaciated..._

As one of Erebor's closest allies, Thranduil was forced to help. But, as time went one, Legolas along with Tauriel, became close friends with the royal family, and in time even himself. He found himself particularly friendly with the crown prince. There was no way he could say no, even though he was not told why Fíli was missing, he knew he had to be found.

"Legolas, Tauriel," Thranduil said addressing his son and his captain, "go with the royal family and join the search party. I will take a small party and search in another area."

At that, he saw smiles light up Thráin's, Frérin's, and Víli's. He was now certain this all had to do with Thórin, for his face showed not happiness and hope like his family, but guilt all the ways through. Thórin was responsible for all of this, he just was not sure how, but he was determined to help set right this entire situation.

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><p>Fíli wasn't sure what woke him up in the middle of the night. Was it the wind? A warg? A wolf? Whatever it was it caused him to lean in closer to his soft pillow. The pillow moaned and pulled him in closer. He had no idea where he was at that point but in his sleepy mind, he did not care, he was comfortable, he began to drift off to the land of dreams.<p>

"Bombur, Bifur, Fíli, we have to get out of here now!" a loud voice cried bringing Fíli back to the real world.

Bifur asked Bofur what was going on, or at least Fíli thought that's what Bifur was asking. He was just starting to learn Khuzdûl, when he ran away.

"Wargs! Orcs! A whole bunch of them! We need to get back to the caravan, and fast, we need to get out of here!" Bofur yelled as he began to throw pots, pans, instruments and whatever he could find into his pack.

Bombur and Bifur shared a nod and before Fíli knew, he was on his own two feet joining in the packing up, as a warg screamed in the distance. He shuttered, as a voice said in his head, "If you hear a warg, head up into a tree". Fíli smiled at the memory as small as it was, a memory of a life he could no longer have.

Before he knew it, he felt a tug on his arm, it was Bombur and the four of them began to run in the opposite direction of the wargs, towards what was that Bofur had said, a caravan? What is that? For the first time, Fíli felt small and very scared. He wanted to go home, not to an unloving unwanted family, but to the safety of the mountain. Another scream from a warg; they had to keep moving.

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><p>"Kíli!" a voice cried in the darkness.<p>

"Wake up, Sweetie."

Who was talking? Where was he? Why was everything so dark?

"Kíli, Great-grandson, please wake up."

He did not want to wake up. He felt safe, comfortable in the darkness. It was not time to wake up yet. So, he did not.

Something was bothering him, who was this Kíli all the voices were talking about?


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to kasmira36 for pointing out my mistake in this chapter!

I have to apologize for the late post. My grandmother had surgery and is now in rehab. I have no idea which way is up at this point.

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><p>"Fíli, Fíli, where are you?" Thráin yelled in a part of the deepest part of Mirkwood.<p>

"Fíli, Fíli! This isn't funny anymore!" Legolas yelled in a different direction.

"Fíli! Fíli! Son, are you here?" Víli screamed.

This wasn't funny anymore, thought Thórin. His nephew was missing, his dear, sweet nephew, whom in his short life was probably the most important person in Thórin's life, and now he was missing. There was only one person to blame for this, and it was himself.

To make matters worse, he had turned everyone in his family against him because of it. His own father won't even look him in the eye, and forget his mother. His sister had only said one sentence to him before he left her with Kíli and ran to join the search part for Fíli. His brother and brother-in-law could not even look in his direction, he did not even want to think about what his grandparents think of him back home. He was even sure Legolas and Tauriel were against him as well once they had been told by Thráin what had happened. Thórin even felt sick about the feeling of Thranduil hating him. He was all alone in the world, probably worse than he imagined Fíli to be feeling.

He had been taught at a young age not to show emotion, but at this point, all he felt like doing was crying. He remembered what had happened as if it had happened earlier today.

_Thórin and Dwalin were in the training room dueling with swords. Víli and Frérin were sitting underneath a stone statue of Durin that had been there for centuries watching the dance of swords. It was an intense dance that was showing no signs of stopping, when one went on the offense, the other defense that turned to offense. It was an endless loop. _

"_Fee, catch me!" a very young voice cried. _

_Laughter answered. Two dwarfling princes were done with lessons for the day and now were creating havoc throughout Erebor. Normally when Throin and Dwalin would hear Fíli or Kíli's voice the duel would stop in its tracks. However, today it just wanted to continue. _

_All of the sudden to door to the training room opened up and 15-year-old Kíli came running into the room followed by his golden haired brother, a room both princes knew they were banned from entering. _

"_I'm going to get you, Kíli!" Fíli yelled. _

_Kíli darted right down the middle of the room, right into the midst of the duel; Fíli following. Kíli had one destination in mind, the stone statue where his father and uncle were sitting. Suddenly Kíli screamed in pain. Thórin, not paying attention had swung his sword and hit Kíli in the head with the handle, and somehow bringing him airborne where he came to rest at the base of the stone statue where Víli and Frérin were sitting. _

_That had stopped the duel as both swords fell to the floor and Fíli, for all he could do was stare there in horror. "Kíli!" everyone in the room had said at once. The dwarfling remained motionless. _

_In horror, Frérin picked up his youngest nephew, and made way to leave the room to the infirmary, Víli on his heels. Dwalin excused himself to go find Dis to tell her what happened, leaving Throin with Fíli who was now in tears. _

_In that moment, Thórin was livid. Fíli and Kíli knew better than to walk into that room, nevermind play in that room. He let his anger talk. _

"_What were you thinking, Fíli? Allowing your brother to run into this room and for you to follow him not trying to stop him, but in laughter nonetheless! What were you thinking?" _

_Fíli sniffled, and looked down at the floor, and mumbled something incomprehensible. _

_Thórin had had enough. He grabbed Fíli's chin and made him look him in the eye. _

"_You have been told multiple times, you and your bother both not to come into the room. As the older brother you should have been watching him, and should have prevented him from entering this room, but did you? No, you decided to drop down to his level!" Thórin all but yelled at his nephew. _

_Thórin dropped Fíli's chin, and allowed him a moment of tears. "What do you have to say for yourself?" This time Thórin did yell. _

"_I'm sorry uncle." Fíli all but whispered. _

"_What did you say?" Thórin yelled again._

"_I said I'm sorry uncle!" Fíli shouted the last word. _

_Thórin was beyond mad at that point. Fíli should have known better, and all he could say was I'm sorry? _

"_How dare you! How dare you apologize to me! You knew you were wrong! As fourth in line for the throne you should know better! YOU'RE NO HEIR OF MINE! GET OUT! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE!" Thórin screamed. _

_Fíli didn't have to be told twice he turned and left the room. At that moment, Thórin fell to his knees tears. What had he just done? The rest of the day was a blur to him, as everyone in the royal quarters seemed to ignore him. He didn't even realize Fíli was missing until Dis came up to him in tears._

"_Thórin, how could you?" She left almost as soon as she had come. _

_Thórin ran to the gate and saw his father, Frérin, Víli, and a contingent of guards leaving. He asked the gatekeeper where they were going. Those words he said would haunt Thórin forever. _

"_They're going to go find Prince Fíli, my lord. He is not in the mountain."_

_At that moment, Thórin regretted what had happened in the training room more than anything. He turned on his heels back to his room, grabbed his pack, sword, and water skin. He made a beeline to the kitchen and grabbed some bread, and salted meat, and filled up his water skin. He turned to leave the kitchen when he found himself looking at a much older version of himself, only this version was wearing a crown. His grandfather, Thrór, King Under the Mountain. He could only stare at the king who could only stare back. _

_Thórin tried to go around Thrór, but the king was fast as he put his arm out to block his mad dash. _

"_My king?" Thórin asked._

"_You caused this, now you fix this." Thrór said as he put his arm down. _

_Throin ran past the king, to the gate, and ran to catch up with the search party…_

In reality it had been a little over a week. Had it really been a week since he had last seen his nephew? No, it was over a week, was it? The days were blurring together for him, in his social exile. Thórin was beginning to feel isolated. If anyone would give him the time of day, he would apologize, apologize for both his nephews. He was worried for Kíli at the time and took it out on the one who couldn't defend himself. For probably killing his youngest, and telling his oldest to leave and for all intense purposes, disowning him.

Once he found Fíli, he was going to apologize to him, and hold him in his arms and never let him go again. He just hoped he wouldn't lose Fíli to Frérin. It was the oddest thing between him and his brother. When Fíli was born, he had taken him and had been Fíli's uncle, Frérin was just and extra uncle that stood in the background. When Kíli was born the opposite happened. Frérin had taken him and Thórin became the extra uncle. Sure, both his brother and himself loved both their sister-sons equally, but when it came time for discipline when neither Dis nor Víli were there, Thórin always took Fíli and Frérin always took Kíli. It was just the way things were.

He didn't even hear Tauriel come up next to him. His eyes were watering at the memory. He was beginning to lose hope of ever getting his family back. He barely felt her put her hand on his shoulder, his first person-to-person contact with someone else in what was beginning to feel like a lifetime. He leaned into his friend's touch, when all of the sudden a cry went out. Tauriel released him and both ran to the center of the search area where their party had gathered. Víli was in the center of it with Legolas looking solemn. Thórin at that point could not stop the tears from flowing. For in Víli's hands was a lock of blonde curly hair and a piece of ripped cloth. At closer inspection, the ripped cloth was Durin blue and had half the symbol of the royal house on it. It could only belong to Fíli.

* * *

><p>A finger jerked, or so Narvi thought. It was his turn to sit with the youngest prince of Erebor. Everyone in the royal family currently in Erebor had gone to bed, so it was just him and the listless prince. Narvi frowned at that for it had been too long since Kíli had smiled at anyone, or tried to throw a rock at his great-grandfather. He was beginning to fear that he would never do that again.<p>

Narvi reached out to smooth Kíli's dark hair back away from eyes. He pulled back, he could have sworn he felt his eyes twitch. He turned his gaze to Kíli's hands again, this time he did not imagine it, a finger was moving. Was Kíli waking up? He did not want to give the royal family false hope, but Kíli deserved to wake up to faces who loved him. He signaled for the guard to go wake up the king and his family. But why did he feel that something was not right with the dwarfling?

* * *

><p>Fíli tried to keep up with Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur, but his short young legs kept him behind. Even that dog was keeping up, or was he a little ahead? It didn't matter, all that did that with every step he took closer to the caravan, the further away he got from those who didn't want him. He groaned as his foot met another rock he couldn't see and he once again found himself meeting the ground. He was done with the ground after this week, he vowed never to sit nor sleep on the ground again. A warg screamed in the distance.<p>

"Help!" he screamed.

He lifted his head only to see Bifur come and pick him up. Instead of placing him on his feet, he put Fíli's head on his shoulder, and held him there, and began to run. They could not stop. They had to move, and they had to get the caravan out of the way. In Bifur's arms, he felt comfortable, more comfortable than he had felt in a long time, well not as comfortable as last night as he felt sleeping on Bombur, but comfortable, and well protected. Bifur reminded him a lot of his un-Frérin and cou-Dáin, and Bombur was well, Dad. He wasn't sure what to make of Bofur yet, as he really hadn't much contact with him.

"Bombur! Bofur! Bifur! Why are you running?" A voice yelled from the distance.

Fíli lifted his head up to see that they had arrived at a site next to a river. There were about 15 carts set up around a campfire. Each cart appeared to have in front bed rolls, and various odds and ends that signaled nomads. He had found three members of a nomadic tribe of dwarves! Most likely, they had no idea who he was to Erebor, for he was certain Prince Fíli of Erebor was known throughout the major settlements of Middle Earth. This was perfect, he would never have to go back.

He felt two arms reach from behind him and take him away from Bifur. It was Bombur. He brought him over to one of the wagons, where a dwarrowdam and four dwarflings, all appearing to be around his and Kíli's age. He placed Fíli down with the dwarflings.

"Fíli, these are my children Eydis, Oydis, Eluf, Tyr, and my wife Ase." Bombur explained. "Children, start packing up the camp, we need to leave, Ase come with me."

The two adults made their way over to neighboring wagons to have them pack up. All four children began to pick up their belongings while Fíli picked up random pots.

"Who are you?" One of the lads asked.

Fíli looked at the other lad. He was about Kíli's age, with bright ginger hair and eyes the color of grass. He saw no harm of making friends, since he had a feeling he was going to be their new brother.

"My name is Fíli. Your father found me in Gap of Rohan."

All four children stopped what they were doing. An orphan! It was not uncommon for other families in their caravan to take in orphan children, but this was the first time that their family had done so.

"My name is Tyr!" The lad who initially asked Fíli his name was.

"My name is Eluf!" The other lad said, he appeared to closer to Fíli's age than Tyr but a bit younger. He had the same colored hair as Bofur, brown, and eyes as dark as night, just like Kíli. He, like Fíli had the beginnings of a beard.

"I'm Oydis!" The smallest lass said. She appeared to be the same age as Tyr, his twin perhaps. She had black eyes like Eluf and had the same grass green eyes as Tyr.

"My name is Eydis!" The oldest girl said. She might be a year or two older than Fíli. She had her mother's black hair and black eyes.

"Fíli, what's going on?" Eydis asked him.

Fíli saw no harm in telling them the truth. Even Kíli understood what wargs and orcs were.

"We believe we were followed by wargs we think," said Fíli, "we need to leave here!"

All four children nodded. They knew what that meant. Leaving the place they had been living for the past couple of months was going to be hard, but they had no choice.

Once again, a warg screamed in the distance. Oydis screamed. Fíli began to pick up the pace of throwing things into the wagon. He looked around and saw that mostly all the other wagons were packed. Next thing he knew he was being lifted by Bifur into the wagon. Tyr, Eluf, Eydis, and Oydis were put in by Bombur and Bofur. Bombur got to the front of the wagon and began to pull it as Bofur, Bifur and Ase walked alongside. The other wagons followed them towards an unknown destination.


End file.
